


Strangers

by lostresidentevilpotter



Series: What If? [4]
Category: Fear the Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 08:22:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19147189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostresidentevilpotter/pseuds/lostresidentevilpotter
Summary: The woman’s right out in the open, back turned to Alicia. Apparently this woman doesn’t have a care in the world, cooking her meal over a fire as if the sun didn’t set hours ago. There’s an armored SWAT van parked nearby, and what appears to be the woman’s only weapon – a rifle – is perched against the van, at least ten feet away from the woman. Alicia pulls her gun.Or, an AU no one asked for where Alicia meets Althea while out on her own.





	Strangers

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently I loveeeeee posting stories in the middle of the night so here's another one.
> 
> Warning: mention of suicide/suicidal thoughts and canon typical violence
> 
> So I was inspired by Madison coming across Althea in 4x08 and thought...well, what if Alicia had been out all on her own and came across Althea? That's what this is.

Alicia doesn’t remember the last time she saw a person. Well, okay, she does remember, but it’s been so long – and she was forced to kill that guy anyway – so it’s irrelevant. She spends most of her days walking. Killing the dead. Scavenging. She keeps her eye out for libraries in particular. Of course, they don’t have much to offer by way of required supplies – but they have books. And Alicia’s had plenty of time to herself recently. She always keeps room for at least two books in her bag.

 

Libraries, funnily enough, also make good places to hole up for the night. They tend not to have many dead – or living, for that matter – and there’s something comforting about sleeping while surrounded by rows and rows of books. So when Alicia enters a small town and spots a library, she takes a detour, even though it’s dark. The more time she spends alone, the more risks she’s willing to take. Alicia comes around the back of the library, heading for the long-empty parking lot.

 

Except the parking lot isn’t empty. There’s a woman with a camp set up in front of the library’s entrance. The woman’s right out in the open, back turned to Alicia. Apparently this woman doesn’t have a care in the world, cooking her meal over a fire as if the sun didn’t set hours ago. There’s an armored SWAT van parked nearby, and what appears to be the woman’s only weapon – a rifle – is perched against the van, at least ten feet away from the woman. Alicia pulls her gun.

 

Alicia doesn’t have a plan. If she was ruthless, she’d shoot the woman in the back, steal her shit, and pick up a new book while she’s at it. So Alicia isn’t quite at that stage yet. She approaches the woman slowly, carefully tracking her every move, but she still doesn’t seem aware of Alicia’s presence yet. Alicia scans the area for any kind of defensive traps, but she doesn’t locate any. This woman really is just out here. Taking her chances.

 

“I’m gonna have to ask you to stop walking,” the woman says. It startles the hell out of Alicia, so much so that she stops walking. “Thank you.”

 

“What are you doing out here?” Alicia blurts. It’s the first thing that pops into her mind. The woman turns around, grinning. There’s a cup of noodles in one hand, and her other hand rests against something at her hip. Obviously a gun. Alicia should shoot now, before the woman has the chance to get the upper hand on her.

 

“Eating dinner,” the woman replies. “What are _you_ doing out here?”

 

Alicia motions toward the library. Confusion crosses the woman’s face, but she nods like she understands.

 

“Nice van,” Alicia comments.

 

“Don’t get any ideas, kid.”

 

“I’m twenty-four,” Alicia retorts. “I’m not a kid.”

 

The woman shrugs. “Okay. Noodles?”

 

She holds the cup out as an offering, and Alicia’s stomach betrays her, growling loudly. The last time she ate was sometime early this morning. But Alicia shakes her head.

 

“Suit yourself,” the woman says. She’s way too relaxed for this. Alicia hasn’t stopped pointing a gun at her, but the woman seems to have forgotten. “I’m Al, by the way,” the woman says. She waits, and when Alicia doesn’t reply with her own name, Al shrugs once again. Then she takes a seat and starts eating. Alicia stays rooted to the spot, gun aimed at Al’s chest, but Al has decided to completely disregard Alicia’s presence for the time being.  

 

Alicia assess Al quickly. The SWAT van indicates something to do with law enforcement, which implies that maybe Al has better than usual skills with a gun. Based on the fact that Al is eating her dinner shows that she doesn’t view Alicia as a serious threat in spite of the gun that’s still pointed at her. And as far as Alicia can tell, Al’s a solitary woman. Much like herself. Also there’s a beanie on her head, but it’s really not beanie weather. Alicia doesn’t know what to do with that observation, but she files it away anyway.

 

“So, this can go a few ways,” Al says, finally breaking the silence. “One, you can shoot me, take my shit, and be on your way. Two, I can shoot you, dispose of your body, and continue to enjoy my evening. Three…you can put your gun down and join me for dinner.”

 

“Excuse me?” Alicia splutters. “Join you for dinner?”

 

Al cracks a smile. “That didn’t sound right, did it? What I’m saying is, I’ve got plenty of food, if you want something. We can talk.”

 

“Talk?” Alicia says dubiously.

 

“Yeah. Why not?” Al says. “You’re out here alone. I’m out here alone. Surely we can find something to talk about. Here, I’ll start.” Al points somewhere near Alicia. “What’s that on your belt?”

 

Alicia looks down. “It’s the barrel of a gun,” she answers. She turns to give Al a better view of the sharpened end. She kills as many of the dead as she can with the barrel. The gun is mostly for show, used almost solely to deal with the living.

 

“Interesting,” Al says. “So are you gonna come eat with me or not? I’m offering you free food. It’s smart to take it.”

 

“Nothing comes without a price.”

 

“Do you want it or not?”

 

Alicia jams the gun into her waistband and sighs. “Fine, but after, I’m going in to that library.”

 

“I’m not going to stop you,” Al replies. “It’s clear. I already raided it myself.”

 

Alicia approaches Al slowly, but Al has completely dismissed the idea of Alicia being any sort of a threat and grabs a bottle of pop from somewhere behind her. The top twists off with a low _hiss_ , and Alicia doesn’t remember the last time she had soda. She actually doesn’t remember this time.

 

“Pop?” Al questions, holding the bottle out as Alicia takes a cautious seat a good five feet away from Al. Alicia’s teeth sink into her lower lip, and she seriously considers taking the bottle. Al already drank out of it, so if it’s poisoned, then there’s definitely an antidote here somewhere. As if Al can read Alicia’s mind, she teases, “I didn’t poison it. I promise.”

 

Rolling her eyes, Alicia takes the bottle. She still hesitates before drinking. Her stomach growls again, and she doesn’t stop herself from eating the food she’s offered. Thankfully, Al lets her eat the meal in peace. At least, until the moment Alicia finishes. Al hands her the last few sips of soda and stretches out in front of the fire, groaning as her joints pop.

 

“So, what’re you doing out here?” Al asks.

 

“The same thing you’re doing,” Alicia replies.

 

“And what’s that?”

 

“Surviving.”

 

Al smiles and pulls the beanie off her head, running her fingers through her flattened hair. She tosses the beanie onto her nearby backpack. “Have you always been alone out here?” Al asks.

 

Alicia scowls. She stares into the fire rather than at Al. The woman’s got an infuriatingly curious gaze. “No,” Alicia says.

 

“But you’re alone now.”

 

Alicia locks eyes with her this time. “Obviously,” she replies. “Otherwise, why would I be spending my night here with you?”

 

Al grins. “Because I’m delightful company?”

 

Alicia snickers. “Right. That’s _exactly_ why.” Alicia pauses. “I don’t even know you.”

 

“So? I don’t know you either. What do we need to know? The world ended. We’re both out here alone. The dead walk, and nothing makes sense anymore. You want to get to know me?” Al stands, and Alicia stiffens, reaching toward her hip for her gun. Al scoffs. “You won’t need that,” she says. “I’m not going to kill you. If I was, I wouldn’t have fed you first.”

 

Well, when you put it that way. Alicia lowers her hand. She watches Al disappear into the SWAT van and return with a camera in her hands. The type of camera a news reporter would have with them.

 

“What’s that?” Alicia questions.

 

“It’s a camera,” Al answers.

 

“Don’t be a smartass. Why do you have it?”

 

“That’s not the question you asked,” Al says. “I’m a journalist.”

 

“So?”

 

“So it’s my job to get the story,” Al explains. She sits across from Alicia, holding the camera so it’s angled at her face. “So what’s your story?”

 

Alicia huffs. “Please. Like I’m going to spill my guts to a random stranger.”

 

“You ate dinner with me.”

 

“That’s completely different! How about you spill your story to me?”

 

Al smiles, but it’s not like the other times she’s smiled. There’s something wistful about it. “There’s not much to spill,” Al murmurs.

 

“Bullshit.”

 

“But you,” Al says, “you look interesting.”

 

“If you’re a journalist, where’d you get that van?” Alicia asks.

 

“I ask the questions.”

 

Alicia’s eyes roll. “What do you want to know?”

 

“Your name.”

 

Alicia chews on the inside of her cheek, eyes set on the camera. “Tell you what,” she says. “Put the camera away and I’ll talk.”

 

“That’s kind of pointless,” Al says.

 

“Then I won’t talk.”

 

Al sighs and shakes her head. She sets the camera aside. “What’s your name?”

 

“Alicia.”

 

“Alicia what?”

 

“You didn’t give me a last name, _Al_ ,” Alicia points out. “You didn’t even give me a full name.”

 

Al smiles. “Fair enough. What brought you here?”

 

“I’ve been doing some traveling,” Alicia says. “Seeing the world.”

 

“By yourself?”

 

Alicia inhales sharply. “Yeah.”

 

“Why?”

 

Their eyes meet. “Everyone else is dead,” Alicia says.

 

Her answer doesn’t even faze Al. “Why this library?”

 

Alicia smirks. “Some dumbass had a fire going.”

 

“That’s just rude.”

 

Al starts popping buttons on the gray button down she’s wearing.

 

“Please, keep your clothes on,” Alicia says.

 

“I have a shirt under it,” Al retorts. “It’s just getting hot out here, since my dumbass still has a fire going.”

 

“Well, it’s a signal to anything else in this area that someone’s here,” Alicia argues. “It’s a dumbass move.”

 

“I can handle myself, but thanks for the concern,” Al says. She throws the button down aside, leaving her in a well-worn tank top.

 

“I could’ve shot you. You call that handling yourself?”

 

“But you didn’t.” Al cocks her head to the side. “Why didn’t you?”

 

“Maybe I should’ve.”

 

“Ouch.”

 

“I thought maybe you didn’t know the dead eat the living,” Alicia jokes, “since you were stupid enough to have a fire going in the middle of the night. I thought maybe you’d just come out of a coma or something.”

 

“You’re funny,” Al says. “Funnier than most of the people I’ve met.”

 

“Oh, so you start late night fires to meet new people?”

 

“Not always.” Al reaches for her backpack, and Alicia tenses once more but keeps herself from reaching for the gun. Al pretends not to notice. She wriggles free a bottle of whiskey. “Want some?”

 

Alicia snatches the bottle from Al and takes the first swig before passing it back. Al laughs at the face Alicia pulls as the whiskey goes down and drinks some herself.

 

“Why are you alone?” Alicia asks. “If you keep meeting people.”

 

“No one wants to stay,” Al replies. She hands the bottle back, and Alicia drinks once more. “Everyone’s always looking for something. Someone. They’re just…passing through.” Al pauses to think for a moment. “Or they’re major assholes. I’ve met plenty of those.”

 

“Me too,” Alicia agrees.

 

“What about you?” Al asks. “You’ve never found someone worth staying with?”

 

Alicia shakes her head. She motions for the bottle back and drinks again before answering, “Everyone around me dies.”

 

“Is that a warning?”

 

Alicia doesn’t smile. Apparently, the question’s a serious one, so Alicia says, “No.”

 

“It sounded like one.”

 

“It’s just a fact,” Alicia says.

 

“So what do you do then? Besides traveling?”

 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Alicia says. She points at the library. “I read.”

 

“That’s it?”

 

“I look for food,” Alicia says, listing off on her fingers, “I look for water. I look for anything else that might be useful. I move around. I read. I don’t know what you’re looking for from me, Al. I’m pretty boring as far as survivors go.”

 

“No you’re not.”

 

Alicia snorts. “How would you know?”

 

“That’s not boring.” Al points at the gun barrel hanging from Alicia’s belt. “There’s a story behind that.”

 

“Not a fun one,” Alicia mutters.

 

“Most stories aren’t fun anymore. Most of them are depressing as shit.”

 

“Then why bother collecting them?” Alicia asks.

 

“When all this ends, someone will want to know what happened.”

 

Alicia busts out laughing. “When this ends? When this ends, we’ll all be dead. There’ll be no one left to care about what happened.”

 

Al shrugs. “Maybe. But maybe not.”

 

Alicia takes the bottle of whiskey again. She has to scoot closer to Al to grab it for herself, and after she takes another sip, she sets the bottle back beside Al’s leg and lies down on the pavement, staring up at the dark sky. After a few moments, she realizes she could reach over and touch Al’s leg if she wanted to.

 

But she doesn’t want to. Instead, she nudges the whiskey bottle farther away and says, “Take that away from me. I shouldn’t be getting drunk with strangers.”

 

“We aren’t strangers anymore.”

 

Alicia laughs and covers her face with her hands. She lets her arms fall beside her. “Please. We know next to nothing about each other still.”

 

“Your name’s Alicia. You’re alone because the people around you keep dying, so you stopped looking for new people. You read books, because otherwise, you’d go insane from boredom. You don’t shoot random strangers on sight. Should I keep going?”

 

Alicia swallows hard. “No.”

 

She can feel Al’s eyes on her, but she keeps staring up at the sky. Al drinks more whiskey. She puts the cap back on and returns the bottle to her backpack. “My full name’s Althea,” she offers. “But I kind of hate it.”

 

“Kind of?”

 

“Depends on my mood.”

 

Alicia turns her head to look over at Al, but Al’s eyes aren’t on her anymore. They’re fixed somewhere off in the distance. Alicia’s brain has shut off the filter between it and her mouth, thanks to the whiskey, and she hears herself say, “My father killed himself.”

 

That gets Al to look at her again. “What?” she says.

 

“My father killed himself,” Alicia repeats. “My mom told me it was an accident, but after the dead started walking…I don’t know. I guess she didn’t feel right about lying anymore.”

 

“That’s, um…”

 

“You don’t have to say anything,” Alicia cuts in. “He was dead long before any of this, and now the rest of my family’s dead, too. I’m the last one.”

 

“Alicia –”

 

“No,” Alicia blurts, “no, don’t do the pity thing. We aren’t going to be sad and cry and have a moment or whatever. You wanted my story? Well, you can have bits and pieces of it, because I don’t know how to tell a full story anyway.” Alicia pauses. “I used to try to write. Novels. I guess I was gonna attend Berkeley to major in English or something, but I could never quite finish anything. I couldn’t get to the end, no matter how hard I tried. So if you want a story from me, it won’t be complete.”

 

“That’s okay. Your story isn’t over yet.”

 

Alicia presses the heels of her hands against her eyes to ward off the sudden stinging. She’s probably not hydrated enough to properly cry anyway.

 

“Well, if I get lucky, it’ll be over soon enough,” Alicia says.

 

“Don’t say that.”

 

“Everyone else is dead.”

 

“You aren’t. You don’t have to be.”

 

Alicia slaps her hands against the pavement. “Why should I stay? So I can spend the rest of my life hunting for food and reading book after book when none of them matter anymore?”

 

“They matter. You matter,” Al insists.

 

“Please,” Alicia scoffs. “You’re just some random woman I met in the library parking lot. You know, you should really put out that fire before it gets us into trouble.”

 

“I can handle trouble.”

 

“Even when you’re drunk?”

 

“I’m not drunk,” Al says gently. “But you are. You should sleep that off.”

 

“I don’t want to sleep.”

 

“Well, you’re gonna regret that,” Al says. “Come on. You can stay in the back of the van until morning. Then you can be on your way.”

 

“What’s it gonna cost?” Alicia questions.

 

Al hums. “Two minutes of film,” she answers. “You don’t even have to talk,” she adds quickly.

 

“That’s a little creepy.”

 

“I like to remember the people I meet.”

 

“Fine,” Alicia grumbles. “But when I wake up tomorrow.”

 

“It’s a deal.” Al gets to her feet. “Go rest, Alicia. I’ll put the damn fire out, since it’s bothering you so much. And I’ll sleep in the front.”

 

Al stares expectantly down at Alicia, but she doesn’t move. “I can’t get up,” Alicia says flatly.

 

“Of course you can’t. Give me your hands.”

 

Alicia reaches up and grasps onto Al’s wrists, letting herself be hauled to her feet. She staggers immediately, falling into Al, but she manages to keep them both upright and support Alicia to the back of the van. Alicia clings to Al, not really having any other choice, and she giggles to herself.

 

“What’s funny?” Al asks.

 

“You’re warm.”

 

“Thanks?” Al gets Alicia lying in the back of the van and sets a water bottle on the floor near her head. “Maybe drink some of that. Sleep. Your stuff’s down here. If you have to throw up, please don’t do it in my van or you’ll be cleaning it.”

 

“I’m not gonna throw up,” Alicia mumbles. “I’m no weak bitch.”

 

“Right.”

 

Alicia reaches out and snags Al’s arm. “Don’t sleep in the front,” she says. She points at the seats across from her. “Sleep there.”

 

Al nods. “Okay. I need my arm back. I have to pack up.”

 

Alicia lets go. “M’kay.”

 

Alicia’s only half asleep when Al returns. She shuts the door as quietly as she can, but Alicia’s eyes open nonetheless. Alicia grins sleepily as Al sets herself up a bed on the seats across from Alicia.

 

“Wait, come here,” Alicia says.

 

“Are you gonna throw up?”

 

“No!”

 

Al drops the blanket she’s holding onto the seats and approaches Alicia. Alicia waves her arm in a downward motion, and Al cautiously crouches beside Alicia’s head. Alicia reaches out haphazardly, and Al has to duck to avoid being slapped in the face. Alicia recovers, tries again more gently this time, and manages not to smack Al in the face, instead cupping the other woman’s cheek in her hand.

 

“Alicia, you’re drunk and you’re being weird,” Al says in the nicest way she can manage. Somehow, Alicia’s palm is rather icy, and Al still feels like she’s burning up. Al doesn’t lean away from the touch. Only because Alicia’s hand is cold.

 

“How am I being weird? You’re making it weird,” Alicia pouts.

 

“You barely know me, remember?”

 

“So?”

 

Alicia’s hand slips from Al’s cheek down to her neck, and Al quickly snatches Alicia’s hand in her own. “So you’re drunk and practically a baby,” Al reminds her. She gingerly sets Alicia’s hand on the seat beside her and swiftly dodges Alicia’s next attempt to reach for her.

 

“I’m twenty-five,” Alicia says. “I’m not a baby.”

 

“Earlier you said you’re twenty-four.”

 

“I don’t remember,” Alicia replies. “I’m somewhere around there.”

 

Al stands from her crouched position. “Get some rest.”

 

“Wait, don’t go!”

 

Al hesitates and turns back. “Why?”

 

“I always have to sleep alone.”

 

Al sighs. “Okay. Slide over. But keep your hands to yourself. I’m serious. Grab me, and I’m gone.”

 

Alicia pouts again. “Fine.” She slides closer to the wall of the van, flipping onto her side to make more room. Al eyes her, but Alicia makes a point to draw her arms against her chest, so Al kicks her boots aside and lowers herself next to Alicia, keeping her back to her. Alicia makes a small huffing sound but doesn’t argue. Alicia hogs the entire pillow, so Al settles with her arm curled beneath her head. Alicia falls asleep long before Al has the chance to. Maybe Alicia had a point about that fire. Every little noise Al hears brings her back to consciousness.

 

Al rouses from sleep early, unable to help herself. The sun’s already risen, so it’s at least no longer the middle of the night. Before Al can get up, she realizes there’s something holding her back. Alicia’s arm is slung across Al’s waist. Al can’t bring herself to wake Alicia, so she slowly lifts Alicia’s arm and slips free. Alicia doesn’t stir, but her body shifts into the extra space she’s now allowed.

 

Al leaves the van to make sure everything’s in order. And before Alicia departs, she owes Al two minutes of footage. That’s what’s on Al’s mind when she steps out of the van. Maybe it’s leaving the van that’s the mistake.

 

Alicia wakes up alone. She’s not exactly surprised – and with the killer headache she’s nursing, she isn’t currently concerned with Al’s whereabouts anyway. It isn’t until the sound of loud voices reaches her that she fully wakes up. For a half second, she forgets about the pounding in her head. She grabs that water bottle Al left her and gulps half of it down in a desperate attempt to relieve some of the pain before she stands up.

 

Alicia peers out one of the windows and makes out the scene directly outside of the van. Al’s back is to her, both her arms raised, and three men stand probably ten, fifteen feet back. All three hold rifles. All three of those rifles are pointed at Al.

 

“Shit,” Alicia hisses. What’s the best plan? If being alone all these months has taught Alicia anything, it’s how to plan her way out of a tight situation. Alicia searches the van for something useful. There’s an assault rifle in the passenger’s seat, fully loaded, but Alicia figures by the time she opens the back of the van, she has two seconds to do something before they shoot at her. If she even gets one shot off at them, the other two guys will either fire at her or at Al. Alicia can’t risk that.

 

Surely there’s _something_ that can help her hidden somewhere in this van. Alicia starts ripping through shit, silently apologizing to Al for screwing up her organization. The voices are getting louder, but Alicia doesn’t hear Al saying anything. Just male voices. Then Alicia unearths the box. She yanks it free and pops the lid open. Alicia sighs in relief and plucks one of the grenades free. This could either work or go really, _really_ badly, but Alicia hopes for the best.

 

She makes sure she knows how to use the grenade before she prepares herself to step outside. Her head pounds relentlessly, a lovely reminder of last night, but Alicia steels herself and opens the back door as quietly as she can. She pokes her head out and can just see the three men, but her view of Al is blocked. Al’s smart. She’ll know what to do.

 

“You want it? Here,” Al snarls. Something shiny flies through the air, putting even more distance between Al and the three gunmen. Perfect. Al just set Alicia up _perfectly_. One of the men breaks away to chase after the shiny object – keys, likely – and the two other men inch closer to the first.

 

Right as one of the guys spots Alicia, she shouts, “Al! Down!”

 

Alicia pulls the pin and launches the grenade at the three men. They barely have time to react, and Alicia can’t see if Al is capable of getting farther away. She’s too busy jumping back into the van and pulling the door shut. Even so, she can feel the force of the explosion. Well, the headache’s the least of her problems now. One of the three men is screaming – the idiot’s going to draw all the dead for miles to their location. Alicia waits a few more moments before cracking the door open and peering out.

 

One man’s face down on the pavement, very obviously dead. The second guy is the screaming one, clutching at his bleeding face. His eyes, given that he just keeps screeching, “My eyes!” The third guy has both his hands pressed to his neck, but blood still manages to spurt from between his fingers. He’ll be dead soon enough. The real question is whether or not Al’s injured.

 

The first guy’s lying in a pool of blood so big, there’s no way he’s alive. The dude with the cut artery’s a goner. He has a few more minutes, max. The eyes dude, though…he could last. Alicia steps down from the van and pulls her gun from her waistband. She approaches them slowly. Cut artery dude watches her, mouth agape, but his hands slip from the wound, and he’s all but dead. The eyes dude doesn’t even know she’s there. She raises the gun.

 

“Alicia, wait!”

 

Alicia turns back in time to see Al roll out from beneath the van, scrambling to her feet. Alicia breathes a sigh of relief when she sees Al is unhurt. Al rushes over, and Alicia’s stomach starts to do flips. The look on Al’s face…

 

Horror doesn’t even cover it.

 

“What are you doing?” Al asks.

 

“Putting him out of his misery,” Alicia replies over the guy’s continuing screams. “We can’t help him, and he was holding you at gunpoint a few minutes ago.”

 

Al’s lips press together. “He’s a kid.”

 

“He’s not –”

 

Maybe he is. Maybe he’s younger than Alicia. Maybe he’s not even eighteen. Alicia can’t tell, and she’ll never know.

 

“We have no choice,” Alicia murmurs. “Unless you want him to keep suffering.”

 

Al inhales sharply but nods. “I can do it,” she offers. She holds her hand out for the gun, but Alicia shakes her head.

 

“I threw the grenade. It’s my fault.”

 

“You did it to save me,” Al says.

 

“Well,” Alicia says, “yeah. I guess I did.”

 

“So I should do it.”

 

“No,” Alicia says simply. She aims at the poor guy and pulls the trigger. She barely flinches. He falls back, dead, hands falling from his shredded face. Alicia looks away and shoves the gun back in her waistband.

 

“Well that sucked,” Al says after a solid two minutes of standing in silence.

 

“You really threw your keys to those shitheads?” Alicia blurts. “I was asleep in the van! What if I hadn’t woken up?”

 

“But you did wake up,” Al says with a grin. She goes and retrieves the key ring. “Besides, these aren’t my actual keys,” Al says. “I’m not a fucking idiot, Alicia.”

 

“But I am,” Alicia mutters. “I threw a grenade when you were right there.”

 

“You didn’t have many other options,” Al says. She grasps Alicia’s shoulder and manages a comforting smile. “You saved me, kid.”

 

“I’m not a kid.”

 

Al throws her a wink. “Right. I’m glad you found the grenades. I kind of forgot where I put them.”

 

Alicia rubs at her temples. The sunlight isn’t exactly helping her headache. Al laughs and pats Alicia on the back.

 

“Come on,” Al says. “I’ll get you something for that headache.”

 

“I need new books,” Alicia reminds.

 

“I know,” Al says over her shoulder. She disappears into the van and returns with a bottle of ibuprofen and water. She hands both over to Alicia. “You owe me two minutes of film. Don’t forget.”

 

“I haven’t.” Alicia swallows some pills and finishes off the water. “Why don’t you just film me picking out some books? Then you’ll get your two minutes, and I –”

 

“You’ll what?” Al asks softly.

 

Alicia hesitates. “I guess I’ll be on my way.”

 

Al nods curtly. “Let me get my camera.”

 

Alicia waits for Al to return with the camera then leads the way into the library. It’s quiet. Quieter than death. Just how Alicia likes it. She holds her sharpened gun barrel, but nothing emerges when she bangs it against a metal shelf. Alicia hooks the barrel back on her belt and starts scanning the shelves. She’s hyperaware of Al trailing behind her, filming, but she tries to forget about it and focuses on selecting something that sounds halfway decent.

 

“You know, if you stuck around a bit, you’d have more room for books,” Al says. Alicia whips around and ends up staring straight into the camera.

 

“You’re serious?”

 

“Dead serious.”

 

Alicia smirks. “You must really like me then.”

 

Al shrugs. “You’re manageable.”

 

“Manageable? You’re gonna have to do better than that if you want me to stay,” Alicia laughs. She turns back to the shelves and continues skimming across the titles.

 

“You’re…not terrible?”

 

“Better.”

 

“You’re alright?”

 

Alicia nods. “I can accept that.” She chooses a book and holds it up. She doesn’t feel so awkward with the camera anymore. “Have you read this?”

 

“No.”

 

“I’m gonna give it a try.”

 

Alicia passes the book to Al and continues her search. She chooses three more books that sound fairly interesting and takes the books back from Al.

 

“You’re still filming?” Alicia says. “We agreed to two minutes.”

 

“You didn’t stop me.”

 

“I forgot,” Alicia admits. Heat rises from her neck heading for her face as she realizes she’s _still_ being filmed. “Put that away,” Alicia mutters, holding her hand out toward the lens.

 

“Why?” Al teases, grinning. “Nervous?”

 

Alicia’s face blazes hot. “No!”

 

“It’s because I’m gonna have you on film forever, right?”

 

“That’s creepy.”

 

Al shuts the camera off and lowers it to her side. “Your face isn’t one I want to forget,” Al says nonchalantly. They fall into stride with one another, and Al holds the door for Alicia on their way out. “I’ve got a few more books in the van,” Al says, scratching the back of her neck. “In case you finish those quickly.”

 

Their eyes meet, and Alicia smiles. Alicia climbs into the passenger’s seat, setting her books on the floor between her feet. She straps herself in as Al prepares to drive them to the next town. Alicia stares out the window at the library until it’s out of sight. She glances over at Al, who’s too concentrated on the road to notice, and smiles to herself once more.

 

Alicia hurled a grenade in Al’s direction, and she survived. Maybe things will be better this time.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gonna be honest: I don't know much about grenade blasts or the types of injuries grenades are realistically capable of causing and the internet was not incredibly helpful, so I took a guess lol. Feel free to leave me any of your thoughts in the comments, and thanks for reading!


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